


Hallways Intersect- A High School Rendition

by notmyname0123456789



Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Anxiety, Asexual Character, Bryce is ace, Character has anxiety problems, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Heavily Hinted, High School, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teenagers, Underage Relationship(s), Well it's hinted, brief Bryce/Jill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-11 10:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3324722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmyname0123456789/pseuds/notmyname0123456789
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A high school AU, revolving around Chuck and Casey's lives as teenagers at Burbank High. Johnny is unsurprisingly a jock and feared through the halls, Chuck a smarty trying to figure his way around whose hand looks the best for holding. Complete with transfer/exchange students, Morgan's schemes, and a look into Ellie's struggles mothering Chuck, our story starts with a history test...</p><p>Eventual Chuck/Casey</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cheaters Never Prosper

**Author's Note:**

> I hadn't found any Chuck High School AUs, and was really wanting one. I took it upon myself to stand up and do it myself. I hope you like it, and I don't have a clue how this will end. You've been warned. Thank you for reading!

Johnny reached out and poked the back of Chuck’s neck. The other boy twitched, shaking his head a bit, but ignored him. Johnny sighed loudly, and went back to staring at his test. He answered all the ones he knew first- the ones about dates. John Casey could remember every important date in history! At least that’s what his teachers always told him, as they pointed out the other half of the test that was either incorrect or just blank in his confusion.

After answering all the time questions, Johnny went back to doodling tanks and submarines on the side of his World War 1 test. He flicked his blue eyes up to the clock above Mr. Tang’s desk. They had thirty more minutes to take the test. Thirty more minutes to stare at his blank paper. He tried to get Chuck’s attention again by nudging the boy’s ankle.

Chuck kicked him back roughly, rattling the metal desk, making a few kids look up. Was he rough housing? Telling Johnny to stop? Was it a code? One kick for question one, followed by a tap per letter for multiple choice?

Johnny looked over and saw Mr. Tang leaning under his desk, searching for something. He leaned forward, “Chuck,” he whispered. “Lemme see your paper!”

Chuck shrugged him off. “Quit it!” He hissed.

“I just need the second section!” Johnny reached around Chuck and grabbed the bottom of Chuck’s test packet.

Chuck turned around, elbow first, hitting Johnny’s face accidentally with a loud, “Knock it off, jockstrap!” Johnny fell back from the hit to his nose. He toppled out of his seat and onto the floor, clutching at his sore nose; the center of his face quickly heating up.

“Nice job, Bartowski!”

“Hey look at Johnny!”

“What an ass!”

“Clutz!”

“Spaz!”

“Bartowski! Casey!” Mr. Tang stood up and marched down the aisle towards the two boys. “Get up! Get out of my classroom!” Mr. Tang grabbed Johnny and yanked him up, trying unsuccessfully to make the lanky young man stand.

“What?” Chuck said as he was forced out of his seat. “But he tried to cheat off me! I was just- oh God!” Mr. Tang- along with the rest of the class- looked down at Johnny, pinching his nostrils, gasping through his mouth, as blood soaked through the cracks between his fingers.

“Casey, get to the bathroom and clean up! I want both of you to stay after class to make up this test,” Mr. Tang squinted dangerously up at the two young boys. “And then for the rest of the week as punishment for disturbing a test, disturbing the class, the peace, my patience,”

“You can’t do all this!” Chuck raised his voice and waved his test.

“And for unnecessary violence!” Mr. Tang squinted at Chuck. “And for cheating!” He curled his lip down at Casey before grabbing both of the boys’ tests and ripping them in two, throwing the remains in recycling.

* * *

 

“This is a load of bull,” Johnny grumbled as his lips began to dry from all the hot air he was breathing out through his mouth, head tilted back.

Chuck shook his hands into the sink just as the last bell rang. He looked over to a still bleeding Johnny. “You know…” he said quietly. “If you hold your chin to your chest, the blood will clot faster in your nose, and stop bleeding. And it won’t run down the back of your throat, like when you tilt it back.”

Johnny gazed menacingly at Chuck, glaring as he tucked his chin into his collarbone.

“Thanks, Bartowski,” Johnny actually growled.

“Look, I’m sorry.” Chuck said and shoved his hands into his jeans’ pockets roughly, looking at his converse. “But you really should know by now that you need to stop cheating. You wont get any smarter by writing down someone else’s answers.”

“I’m plenty smart!” Johnny snapped, whipping his reddened hand to point angrily. “I had over half-a that test in the bag! I just needed four questions from you and I would’ve gotten an A! Haven’t gotten an A in Tang’s class yet this year!”

“You haven’t aced a test all semester?” Chuck gapped.

“Don’t be stupid, Bartowski!” Johnny rinsed his hands in the sink, wiping them on his jeans. “I’m top 1% in PE!” He grinned menacingly as he passed Chuck on the way to Tang’s room to make up the test. “I even fractured one guy’s collarbone during a football game last season!” Chuck’s eyes went wide as he followed Johnny down the hall. The other boy said over his shoulder, “I can’t wait to play again this year! I just love ramming those guys right into the ground, waiting for the stupid to spill outta their mouths! You should try out, Chuck!”

Johnny turned around, walking backwards slowly, sizing up Chuck’s lanky frame. “Yeah,” he said, rubbing his wrist against his dried-blood caked nose. “We need some targets for those JV boys to learn how to properly kill!” He laughed and turned around, walking into Mr. Tang’s class to retake the history test, leaving a fear-filled Chuck to shuffle in behind him.


	2. After School

“I just don’t get why Tang wouldn’t let you slide,” Morgan was saying as he pedaled next to Chuck. His bicycle helmet straps hung by his face, as he stood up on the pedals, trying to keep up with his long legged friend. “I mean, you said that douche was trying to cheat off of you, right? It’s a good thing you popped him one, man!”

“I didn’t mean to hit him, Morgan!” Chuck turned to the right sharply, leaning dangerously close to the asphalt. He had to stop doing that; the leather of his shoes was beginning to wear away at the sides. “I was trying to shake him off, cuz he was trying to steal my test!”

Morgan pedaled furiously to get in front of Chuck to be able to drift in a circle around him. “Well the guy deserves it! Everything he did to us in seventh grade should be- and probably is- classified as torture, Chuck!”

“You’re being dramatic!”

“No, I’m not!” The two slowed down and glided into Chuck’s driveway. “Trashcans, lockers, broom closets- he shoved us into everything! Me, mostly! I could fit!” Morgan slammed his bike into the rack, hooking his helmet onto the bars. “Wedgies in the locker room! Swirlies! Swirlies, Chuck! That’s so lame!”

“Not according to Johnny Casey!” Chuck said as he walked into the apartment.

“What did he do now?” Ellie shouted from the kitchen. “Do I need to call the school again?” Ellie stood in the kitchen, dressed in her nursing scrubs, ready to bolt out the door. “I told them to tell your teacher to separate you two! Is that why your late?”

“Hey, El! Yeah,” Chuck sighed, plopping his bag on the couch and coming to bite his sister’s shoulder lightly. “I accidentally elbowed his face, because he was trying to steal my test answers. Mr. Tang kept us after to retake the test, and detention with him for the next week.”

“You got in a fight?” Ellie yanked a casserole dish out of the oven and set it on top of the stove. “Are you alright?”

“It wasn’t a fight, I promise!” Chuck waved his hands. “It was an accident!”

“Oh you should have seen him, Ellie!” Morgan jumped over the counter to land in the kitchen. “He was all, ‘stop messin’ with me asshat!’,” Morgan held his fists up and swung a few times. He deepened his voice when speaking for Johnny. “And Johnny was like, “’take that nerd!’ But Chuck dodged and smashed him one, right in the face, El!”

“Oh my God, Chuck!” Ellie’s hands flew up to cover her mouth before cupping her brother’s face and turn him side to side.

“Ellie, Ellie, Ellie!” Chuck said. “Who are you going to believe? Me or Morgan?”

Ellie nodded, still gripping her brother’s face tightly. Her eyes stayed unfocused, trying to come back. “Right. Yeah, you’re right Chuck.” She dropped her hands and took her oven mitts off. She threw them on the counter near the sink, and bumped in a hovering Morgan. She closed her eyes and pinched her nose, “Morgan! … Chuck, boys… I have to go prepare for a pre-exam for one of my classes. I’ll be back around 11. If you need anything,” she moved swiftly and gracefully out of the kitchen and picked up a purse- the one that made her look older, the one she used for Child Services check ins and when she went to the bank. “Some thing happens, Morgan, call your mother. Or you guys can always call Devon.”

They groaned.

“I know he takes some getting used to, but I really want you to get to know him better, Chuck. Talk to him. _Bond_. Something.”

“No, I, uh. I really like Devon, Ellie. He’s cool.” Morgan nodded and walked closer to Ellie.

Ellie sighed and shook her head. “Goodbye Morgan. Bye Chuck! Love you!”

“Love you!” They chorused.

“Alright buddy, lets go blow off this homework!” Morgan slapped chuck on the back and raced down the hallway to Chuck’s bedroom.

* * *

 

“Uhh!”

“Huuuraah”

“Hrragrrh!” Johnny rammed repeatedly into the singular dummy sled. He had been isolated, Coach Graham making him work three times as hard as the other guys for being late to practice thanks to Mr. Tang’s test-retake. He floored his torso into the squishy, lineman shaped bag. His hands planted themselves on it’s chest and he pushed with all his might, moving the sled across the field towards the other Varsity boys.

Johnny shoved the sled as he walked over to one of the trainer girls, snatching a bottle of water before one of them could hand it over. “Thanks,” he gruffed. He ripped his helmet off and tilted his head back, squirting a stream of lukewarm water into his waiting mouth. He drained the bottle and plunked it down on the foldable table at the edge of the practice field.

“Casey!” Coach Graham yelled. “Did I say stop? Get back to mushing that sled, boy!” Johnny put his helmet on before curling his lip. Hiking his pants back up, and readjusting his shoulder pads, Johnny trudged back to the dummy. Graham blew his whistle. “Mush! C’mon you dogs! Mush!” Graham blew his whistle, starting three different plays around the practice field. JV against JV, they slammed into each other, balls passing around. Varsity boys shoved and tripped, pulling against jerseys as they sprinted across all those yard lines. Johnny turned the sled so his back was to his teammates, not wanting to look at them as he made laps around the field, pushing the sled dummy in front of him.

* * *

 

“Alright,” Mr. Tang said, snarling at the two boys. “I’ll be in the workroom, making copies of your next test! Here are your weapons,” Mr. Tang dragged Chuck and Johnny over to two large boxes and a ladder. “Use them wisely!” He left, marching and swinging his arms.

 Johnny grunted and started ripping open the first box. Shoving his hand inside, he produced a two foot long tube- replacement light bulbs. Chuck frowned and began to  set up the ladder, unfolding it’s legs. He looked over to Johnny who was pulling out some screwdrivers from a toolbox on the floor. “What’ll it be, Casey?” Chuck shook the ladder to make sure it stood steady. “Wanna steady the bottom or climb up top?”

 Johnny snarled. “You got us into this mess, idiot. Just keep shut and don’t talk to me.” He walked over and shoved a rod into Chuck’s hands along with the screwdriver. Chuck climbed up the ladder and tucked the tube under his arm, unscrewing the safety panel and taking out the old bulb. He handed it down to Johnny and began to fit the new one in.

Over the course of the next hour, Chuck sweated and swayed at the top of the ladder, every now and then a small tremor shaking him when Johnny banged his head too hard, listening to his iPod.

“Johnny!” Chuck called down. “Hey!”

“What?” Johnny snapped, tearing an ear bud out.

“Can you get the next bulb? We’re almost done here!”

He watched as Johnny roughly shoved the bud back in his ear and took out the next bulb carefully. He handed it up to Chuck, keeping a steady hand on one of the ladder legs. Chuck grabbed the rod and fit one end into the socket, and leaned back to wiggle the other end into the opposite end. As he leaned back, Johnny shook the ladder leg as he bopped.

Chuck let go of the bulb to grab onto the ladder, the rod coming out of the second socket to swing down and lightly bump his face. He was so startled that he flailed to swat at it, losing his footing and falling backwards off the ladder.

He yelped as he lost his footing.

“Chuck!”


	3. Lips, Ladders, Let Off

Sarah froze when she heard a key in the door.

“What is it?” Daniel asked, continuing to play with the latch of her bra.

“Someone’s here!” She whisper-shouted. She shoved Daniel away from her and straightened her shirt and ran a hand through her hair. As the front door opened, she ducked down to make it look like she was digging in her backpack.

“Hey guys!” Daniel’s father called.

“Hey!” They chimed back. “How was work, Dad?” Daniel asked, laying a casual arm across the back of the couch.

“Eh, it was work,” Mr. Shaw said and went into the kitchen. While he was in there, Sarah snatched the sanitary wipes she kept in her bag, and wiped her face all over, just taking off her ruined make up instead of trying to fix it.

Daniel laughed.

Sarah balled the wipes up and into put them into her pocket before shoving Daniel. “I told you we need to time him!” She hissed as he continued to giggle.

“Oh lighten up!” Daniel smiled and wrapped his arms around her mid section. “He’s gonna be gone all weekend this time. We can take anything as slow as you want, honey.”

“I told you I don’t know if I can come over,” Sarah turned in his lap and laid her head on his shoulder.

Daniel kissed the top of her head. “Can’t or unsure?” He rubbed her back slowly, his hand soothingly rubbing the stripe of skin exposed from her shirt riding up in the back.

“I don’t know, Daniel.”

“Hey, Sarah?” Mr. Shaw called from the kitchen. “Do you need a ride home, sweetie?”

“No thank you, Mr. Shaw!” She called back cheerily. “I was just about to start walking home.”

“Okay, honey! Be safe!”

“Thank you I will!” Sarah stood up and adjusted her pants, pulling her shirt down. She slung her backpack on and grabbed her handbag. Leaning down, she grabbed Daniel’s face and kissed him quickly. “I’ll see you Friday at the game, okay?”

He frowned. “What about tomorrow after school? I thought we were going to wrap up that science presentation.”

“My computer quit working.” She said. “I need to run by the tech club and have the nerds there fix it.”

Daniel stood up and went to walk her to the door. “Mmk.” He hugged her and stole another kiss. “See you then.”

“See you then.”

* * *

 

Chuck fell quickly from the ladder, his foot snagging on the leg and turning upside down as he twisted and gravity caught hold of him. He yelled loudly, feeling himself slip, fall and then get slammed roughly against the ladder footholds. His head pounded as the back of his neck were shoved against the steel. His feet kicked wildly, trying to find a foothold while his hands gripped at the ladder’s supports. Johnny’s hands were fisted into his shirt, pushing him back against the ladder, his eyes popped out of their sockets, fear swirling around the blue found there.

“Chuck are you alright?”

Chuck grunted lowly and screwed his face up. His feet struggled to support his upside-down body. They eventually fell forward, over Johnny’s shoulders crushing him and sending both of the boys to the tiled floor.

Chuck curled into a small ball as Johnny scrambled to untangle their limbs and his headphones. He stood up and tried to drag Chuck off of the cold floor. “Get up, Chuck.”

“Uh-uh.” He murmured. His head hurt like crazy, and the whole experience was making it very hard not to cry.

“Well at least you aren’t dead,” Johnny murmured. He let Chuck lay on the floor, righting the ladder and replacing the last few bulbs around the room. When he folded the ladder up and disposed of the light bulb boxes in the outside dumpster, Johnny came back to Chuck sitting up on the floor sadly.

He squinted up at the approaching boy. “Do you know if the nurse is still here?”

Johnny shrugged one shoulder and grunted. “Lets find out.” He clapped a hand down on Chuck and dragged him up, leading him forcibly out the classroom door, down the hallway, and towards the office.

* * *

 

“Shaw!” Coach Graham shouted after blowing the whistle to signal the end of practice.

Daniel ran up, taking his helmet off and taking a grateful breath of air. “Yes, Coach?”

“You know where the hell Casey is?”

“No sir!” Daniel quipped back, looking Graham straight in the eye no matter how intimidated he was with what he saw there. There were so many rumors about Coach Graham floating through school. Roan had told him that he had seen Coach rip a nail out of the ceiling, getting up there just by digging his fingers into the grooves between the bricks in the wall. Cole had told him Coach used to be a spy for the British government. And that he still goes on a few secret missions every once in a while. But Daniel guessed that last one was fake- Cole had only been at this school for a month. “I haven’t seen Johnny since second period, Coach. I’m pretty sure Tang gave him detention. I think for the whole week.”

Coach Graham swore. He took his hat off and rubbed the top of his head, “Guess that means he’s not in the game tomorrow.”

“But Coach,” Daniel started, “if Johnny isn’t in the game tomorrow he automatically gets cut!”

“I know that, boy! I make the rules!” Coach snapped at him. “The next time you see Casey you tell him he’s cut from the team if he can’t get out of his crap with Tang!”

Daniel looked at the ground and tried not to swing his helmet as he thought. He lifted his head, sweat soaked hair clinging to his brows and smiled. “Coach, I think Casey is right over there.” He pointed to the entrance of the practice field where he saw Johnny and that nerd Chuck making their way towards the field house.

Coach Graham lifted his huge, dark hands up to his huge head and bellowed, “Casey!”

Daniel saw Chuck wobble and clutch at the side of his head, Johnny rubbing the nerd’s back slowly, pushing him towards the field house. Johnny came jogging up to the two of them.

“Who the hell is that, Casey?” Coach Graham waved his clipboarded hand towards the field house. “And where the hell have you been?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Johnny breathed out, large shoulders heaving. “I was in detention for Mr. Tang, fixing light bulbs, when that kid over there, “he pointe over his shoulder. “Fell off of the ladder. W-“

“Why did you bring him here?” Coach bit out angrily.

Johnny grit his teeth so as not to say, ‘as I was saying’. He couldn’t snap at the Coach when he was on such thin ice already. You never yelled at Coach, period. “I took him to the nurse to check for a concussion, but she wasn’t there. I came out here to see if one of the football trainers could check him out.”

“That’s all well and good, Casey, but you should be more concerned about you getting kicked off the team, son!”

“That’s a little unfair,” Daniel said.

“Kicked off!” Johnny yelled.

“What are you still doing here, Shaw?” Coach Graham turned to him. “Hit the showers! Get some rest for tomorrow’s game.”

“Why are you kicking me off the team?” Johnny stepped closer to the coach as Daniel jogged slowly towards the field house. He thumped his chest. “I’ve been your best tight end for three years!”

“Two years, Casey!” Coach Graham yelled back. “If you miss the first game tomorrow, you’re off for the rest of the season.” Coach looked over Casey’s shoulder to where some boys were fooling around. “Hey!’ He shouted at them. They looked up and immediately stopped. Coach Graham looked at Casey and frowned a little deeper, turning away from him and walking to the other end of the field.

“Coach,” Johnny followed him. “Coach, you can’t do this!”

“Why not, boy?” Coach Graham kept his gaze in front, not looking back at Johnny. “Why are you different? The exception?”

“Cuz. Because,” Johnny wet his lips. “Because…”

“Because nothing! You have as much potential as any other kid on this field. Yours is gonna be wasted until next season, Casey.”


	4. To the Principal's Office

“You made two students change the lights in your classroom, unsupervised, after school, as a punishment for _attempted_ cheating?” Diane Beckman sat behind her desk, turning from left to right slightly as she stared down Harry Tang. He sat in a small, uncomfortable chair across from her, flicking his eyes around the room at a different object each time he looked away from her gaze.

“I-I-I didn’t _make_ them, you see. I just told them to! They didn’t _have_ to do it! They’re kids! They never do what you tell them to!” Mr. Tang gripped his hands together, elbows banging into plastic armrests whenever he unplied his fingers. He tried for a smile as he explained himself.

“No, Mr. Tang!” Ms. Beckman said. “You are the authority figure! Students are to do what you tell them to! And light maintenance is not a proper punishment for a student! In-School-Suspension or Out-of-School-Suspension, or an administrator will appoint a punishment for the student! I’m sorry Harry, but the only option for you now is-“

“Don’t say it!” Mr. Tang leaped out of his chair, slapping his hands on Ms. Beckman’s desk. “You can’t fire me! You just can’t Diane! You don’t know how much this job means to me! To my wife!”

Ms. Beckman turned her chair away from Mr. Tang, taking her glasses off of the desk and putting them on. She opened up the middle drawer on the right hand side and took out a few forms. “Sign these, Harry and have them filled out by Monday morning, please.”

He snatched the papers out of her hand and read them over. “These- these are…” He looked up at her pleadingly. “You can’t fire me, Diane.”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” she said solemnly. “But with what happened yesterday afternoon, and all the past occurrences with you, the school board is very lucky that the Bartowski’s aren’t suing for Chuck’s injuries.” Ms. Beckman stood up and walked to the other side of the desk. “Interviews for your replacement will happen Tuesday, I’ll need your classroom cleared of all its personal belongings by Friday. Just know…”

Mr. Tang’s face took on a small light of hope.

“Just know if you need any references, I’d be happy to help with your next job.”

He nodded his head sadly, dragging his feet as he left her office with his tail between his legs. As soon as the door shut behind him, Diane Beckman jumped to her feet and rushed behind her desk to close the blinds. She took her hair out of it’s bun and brushed it quickly to take out any frizzes she missed getting ready for work. Throwing the brush into her desk, putting her hair back up, Diane sat down in her chair giddly and reminded herself not to get excited.

She did the normal exercises- checking her panty hose for runs, remembering all the bills she had to pay, and counting. Every day she did this with him, she counted the years in between them to calm herself- to remind herself how wrong this was. But it shouldn’t be wrong. He was 18. Legal age!

A knock startled her out of her thoughts. “Ms. Beckman? Roan Montgomery is here for his daily check in.”

“Yes, thank you!” She called. “Send him in!”

19 years in between. At least it wasn’t serious. Just a fling! It’ll be over by the time he graduates.

The door opened and Roan walked in. Black slacks, shined shoes, and a blue buttoned shirt to contrast his dark hair. Diane mentally growled.

“Shut the door, Mr. Montgomery.” She said courteously. “Please sit down.”

Roan smiled wider and set his hands on her desk, leaning over it to come closer to her face. He laughed softly, darkly. “Oh, Diane, he whispered. “I don’t think _I’ll_ be sitting. That’s your job.” Diane’s breath hitched.

* * *

  _Knock, knock, knock._

Morgan laughed. “What’s the password?”

Chuck laughed next to him, calling out from beneath an old TV- the ones you have to wheel into classrooms. “Say it in Klingon, Skip!”

Sarah immediately regretted coming here. She glanced down at her broken laptop and weighed her options- confront the nerds or fail the project. “Uhm… I can speak Pig Latin, if that will work.” She watched as the two boys scrambled to their feet, straightening their shirts and closing their mouths. She walked forward and set her computer on a table. A cloud of dust flew up from the impact and the table groaned.

“Whoa!” Chuck said and snatched her laptop just as one of the legs on the table buckled and made the table dive to the floor.

Sarah flinched and backed away from the splintering wood. She looked at the two boys in front of her. “I am so sorry!” She started apologizing. “I shouldn’t have set it down, I should have asked before-“

“No, no, it’s fine!” Chuck said. “We’ve been waiting for that to happen, honestly.”

“Y-yeah!” Morgan smiled. “We should thank you for doing that! So… thanks!”

Sarah smiled and glanced at Morgan- they were about the same height –before looking at Chuck who clutched her laptop. “How’s your head?”

“It’s- how did you know I hurt my head?” Chuck tilted his head, looking down at her.

“Everybody knows!” Sarah said. “You and Johnny were in detention and he tried to push you off a ladder. That’s why he got cut off from the football team. Did you forget?”

“What?” Chuck shrilled. He cleared his throat and straightened. He walked to the back of the tech room and set Sarah’s computer down. He had to walk very slowly, and be cautious of taking to many things in at once. He turned around too quickly to look back at Sarah. Clutching his head and ducking it down to not look a them, he said, “Johnny didn’t push me off the ladder, I lost my balance. And I have no idea why he’s being cut from the team. I didn’t even know.”

“Serves him right,” Morgan pointed out.

“No it doesn’t, Morgan,” Chuck said. “Quit hanging onto seventh grade.”

“Hey,” Morgan said, “once a bully, always a bully.”

Chuck rubbed his forehead as he sat down. He opened Sarah’s laptop and booted it up. He sighed and ignored Morgan. Slowly turning his neck, he looked back up at Sarah. “Do you know what’s wrong with your computer?”

“Uhm, it froze when I was trying to close down some applications the other day. I tried coming here after school yesterday, but no one was here. I was hoping it could be fixed before third period today? I need to finish a project.” Sarah watched as Morgan practically glided around her and sat next to Chuck so they could begin operating on her computer.

“Yeah, no one is allowed to hang around the tech room after school,” Morgan said, staring straight at the screen. “Only in the morning.”

She nodded, not really paying attention to Morgan. Sarah kept her eyes on Chuck. How could her intell be wrong? “So… Johnny didn’t push you off the ladder yesterday?”

“Hmm?” Chuck hummed as he closed the lid of the computer and turned it over. “Morgan go get a Phillip’s head for me.” He looked back at Sarah. “What? No. I got startled and fell off the ladder. Johnny caught me and had someone check my head. He didn’t push anyone off of anything, fair lady.”

“Here,” Morgan thumped the screwdriver into Chuck’s hand, taking back his seat.

Sarah watched as Chuck’s hands flew over the back of her computer. He unscrewed the bottom and took it off. The two boys crammed their heads over the innards of the machinery. She checked her watch. First period started in ten minutes, and she still hadn’t seen Daniel yet this morning.

“Are you guys almost done? I really gotta…”

“Done!” The boys chorused, glaring at each other after.

Sarah laughed. She took her laptop and tucked it under her arm, smiling at the two. “Thanks guys.”

“No problem,” Chuck said as he stood. He winced and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah stepped forward, frowning. She refrained from touching his shoulder. _You don’t know him that well. Calm down._

“My… head hurts.” Chuck whimpered a bit as he rubbed at his forehead.

“Let me take you to the nurse.” Sarah said, grabbing his arm and gently helping him to the door.

“No, it’s fine.” Chuck waved her off. “I’m, uh, supposed to leave early today. The doctors said they don’t want me having a full school day.”

“Still,” she said. Setting her bookbag down, Sarah put her computer in it and zipped it shut. “The nurse will probably have something for your head before you leave.”

Chuck nodded sadly and waved by to Morgan. Sarah smiled, slipping her bag back onto her shoulders. She walked Chuck steadily down the hallway, smiling warmly at him, completely forgetting to go meet up with Daniel.

* * *

 

Bryce ran his hand along the curve of Jill’s side. She smiled against his mouth, tightening her grip in his hair.

He grunted. “Not so hard. Took me twenty minutes to gel it right this morning.” Jill laughed, leaning down to suck on his neck. Bryce raised his shoulder to get her to stop.

She unlatched her fingers from behind his head, placing them on his shoulders. She reached above her head to turn on the light. It illuminated Bryce’s uncomfortable face in front of the shelves of cleaning supplies.

“What’s wrong?” She asked him, running a hand across his cheek.

He shrugged, turning his head away from her hand. “I dunno. This is just… starting to bother me.”

Jill sighed. “I told you, Bryce. I’m going to break up with him today. You won’t have to feel weird about it anymore!”

“No, not the sneaking around behind Chuck’s back. It’s the… kissing and stuff.”

Jill crossed her arms. “What do you mean?”

Bryce knocked his shoes together, looking at the laces. “It just… doesn’t really do it for me anymore.”

“What, like you don’t like me anymore?”

“No,” he said hurriedly, “it’s not that. I like you plenty. I just don’t feel comfortable kissing, really. And, it feels weird when you hug me.”

“Are you allergic to me now?” Jill put her hands on her hips. “Maybe I just won’t break up with Chuck. I’ll let you figure out what’s going on right now, okay Bryce?”

She turned away from, clicking the light off, heading for the door. Bryce grabbed her arm.

“Don’t you dare,” he said. “You said you would, and you better. We both feel bad about this, and you need to keep your end of this bargain, Jill.”

Jill sighed, thinking. Bryce let go of her arm as she turned and leaned against the doorframe. “Alright. Hopefully that concussion of his will make him forget we were ever dating.”

* * *

 

Johnny finished lacing up his cleats and swung his leg off the bench with a grunt. He grabbed his helmet and headed for the door.

“Wait up, Casey!”

Johnny internally stiffened. He scoffed under his breath and kept walking to leave the locker room.

“Hey, Casey,” Cole clapped a hand on Johnny’s shoulder when he caught up. “Coach wanted me to talk to you before the game.”

“About what?” Johnny curled his lip as he spoke. He flicked his eyes at the kid, sizing him up.

Cole put his hands on his hips, causing his shoulder pads to rise up significantly. “Yeah, Graham told me to tell you that I’ll be starting the game instead of you. You go on second half of the game, alright mate?”

“The hell do you mean I’m not starting the game, Barker?” Johnny ground his teeth as he growled. “I’ve started in every game. Hell’ll have to freeze over before I let-“

Cole held up his hands and took a step away from Johnny. “Look mate, I’m just telling you what Coach said. Don’t shoot the messenger.”

Johnny grabbed the front of Cole’s jersey. “I’ll do more than shoot you if you screw up the first half, Barker.” He shook Cole by his jersey. “We clear Queen Elizabeth?”

Cole pushed Johnny back, the other boy still griping him in a vice. “You better let go, John.”

Johnny shoved him back. “What are you gonna do about it, Queenie?” Three days of pent up anger and frustration started to steam out of Johnny’s ears. Besides the pair of fists opposite him, nothing was stopping him from letting out his stress by pummeling. “Huh?” Another shove. “Tell me.” Johnny pushed Cole back into a row of lockers, the other boy failing to push him away.

“Knock it off, guys,” someone yelled across the room at them.

“Burn it off during the game!”

“Quit dicking, and focus!”

Johnny backed off slightly. Cole poked him in between the eyes, “Get over yourself, Casey. Focus on the game tonight.”

Johnny growled. He shoved Cole’s chest, the lockers banging. “You’re lucky we got a game tonight, Queenie. When this season is over, your ass is mine.”


	5. Have At It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added more since yesterday to this chapter.  
> Chapter extension done March 30, 2015

His knuckles turned white as he clenched his hands together. Daniel turned his head and watched as Sarah talked with that nerd on the other side of the fence. He ran a hand through his black hair, pushing it out of his eyes before placing his helmet back on. The ref just blew the whistle, making him and the rest of the first string Varsity boys jog onto the field and get into position.

As he stood behind his linemen, he stared down the Fulcrum Prep boys. God, they thought they were so much better than them. Daniel sneered inside his helmet as he called the play.

“Hike!” Wrapping his hands around the ball, he looked for an open man. All of his boys were covered, so he went for it. He ran around the clashing bodies, leaping over mud puddles, and pounded down the field towards the end zone.

He heard heavy breathing and slurs being shouted behind him. Daniel was 30 yards away…

Something brushed the back of his jersey. Daniel lowered his head and swerved a bit to the right, breathing as hard as he could as his feet flew beneath him.

24 yards away.

22.

A hand gripped the back of his jersey and yanked him back. The boy behind him wrapped an arm around his chest and tugged him back and down. Daniel saw the flash of his opponent’s red jersey, the boy roughly shoving a knee into his chest to keep him down. Daniel gasped as the boy kept pressing down, barely hearing the ref blow the whistle.

“Get off me…” He gasped. He kicked out, his heel turning up the grass.

“Stay down!” The boy above leaned, placing all his weight down onto Daniel’s chest. Daniel cried out.

He shouted trying to push the boy off of him, as his scream started to turn silent in his pain. The referees ran over, along with both coaches, trying to pull the Fulcrum Prep boy off of Daniel. Once someone did, Daniel felt the ball being pried from his hands. He hung onto it, not knowing if it was the other boy trying to take it.

“Shaw… Daniel! Boy, get up!”

Daniel panted and rolled onto his side, making him clutch his chest and cry out.

* * *

She watched as Chuck wobbled down the bleachers and over to the fence. “Jill!” He waved. She smiled a little and said bye to Hannah. Jill walked over to the fence and dropped her pompoms at her feet.

“Hey, honey!” Chuck smiled and squinted down at her.

“Your head still hurt?” She smiled sadly up at him.

“Yeah,” Chuck rubbed the back of his neck. “The doctor said I have to do everything really slowly and refrain from lots of-“

“Physical activity?” They laughed, until Chuck clutched at the back of his head where he hit it. Jill reached a hand out to touch his arm, but retracted it back, choosing to lay it on top of the fence instead. “You alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine,” Chuck waved, “I was saying… uh…”

“The doctor said you need to refrain from doing something?”

“Oh yeah!” Chuck smiled brightly, lighting up the unlit bleachers. “No video games, television, phone, or computer.” She watched as he looked up, counting on his fingers as he rattled off his limited activities. He beamed down at her, taking her hand off the fence and linking his fingers through hers.

Jill rolled her fingers, loosening the grip.

Chuck quirked his head to the side, then winced at the fast movement. Jill sighed heavily through her nose, and mentally groaned.

“I wanted to talk to you after the game, Chuck.” Jill wiggled her fingers again, trying to get out of Chuck’s hand. She looked away from his face as he slackened his hand, letting hers slip away.

“Well the game just ended! What do you need to talk about?”

“I have been seriously considering ending our romantic relationship.” Jill waited for the bang. She ran her hands up and down her arms, keeping them wrapped around her. She watched as Chuck righted his head and looked down at her. Was he going to cry? Scream? Would he actually be angry at her? She brought her hands up to tighten her falling ponytail before clutching her arms again.

Chuck shrugged his shoulders as he shoved his hands in his pocket, only to bring one out and run it through his floppy hair; one of his fingers got caught in a knotted curl.

Jill felt her shoulders tense up when she decided to look back at Chuck’s face. The wind picked up and made her shiver. She clutched her arms tighter.

“Here,” Chuck said as he took off his jacket.

“No!” Jill said and took a step back. “No way! You’re supposed to be upset! You’re supposed to say I’m a bitch, call me names and yell at me, Chuck! Don’t you dare give me your jacket!”

He shrugged. “Just because other people have violent or sad break ups, doesn’t mean we have to.”

“Yes, it does!” Jill shook her head. Why wasn’t he upset? Why was he not at least showing signs of being sad? Was he not heartbroken with no longer being with her? Did he not love her anymore? Did he love her at all?

“No it doesn’t, Jill,” he insisted. “Truth be told, I’ve been looking at my life, researching… well, ‘research’ wouldn’t be the correct word… but I’ve been looking into some other stuff… other ways of-“

“What the hell are you talking about, Chuck?” Jill stared at him. Was he breaking up with her just after she dumped him? Oh hell no. “Are you dumping me? That isn’t how it works, Chuck! You can’t just have the last word!”

“That isn’t what I’m saying, Jill!” Chuck looked down the sidewalk running parallel with the fence; his friends seemed to be walking toward them. “I wanted to tell you something very, very personal about me, something I sort of discovered a few days ago, but I want to do it in private.”

“Chuck…” Jill sighed. “I- I don’t know what this is about… I don’t want to bend anything broken between us. I believe we need a break. If you can’t be civil and are trying to-“

Chuck’s face hardened as he looked down at Jill. She watched his face sweat as he pointed at her. “I understand you want to separate Jill. I respect your opinion on the outlook of our relationship, and at the moment I agree. That doesn’t mean I want to stop being friends. All I was trying to say was there are people on their way over here, and I have something to get off my chest and want to tell you without anyone else overhearing.”

Her breath caught in the back of Jill’s throat. Her tongue felt heavy as she swallowed. She felt like such a bitch. Yelling at Chuck, breaking the relationship between them, and then accusing him of trying to twist her around his finger. She nodded. “Alright. Alright, yeah! I’m free after school Tuesday. Around five. Can you wait till then to get everything off your chest?”

Chuck drug his hand out of his pocket and gave her a weak thumbs up as he nodded. “Yeah, yeah I can wait to say it.”

* * *

 Chuck’s mouth turned into a deep frown when he saw Devon’s car in the driveway. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Devon. It was just that he could be… a lot to take in at one moment. He was always so happy and in positive no matter what flew out of someone’s mouth. Devon was just so… awesome.

So awesome that sometimes Chuck just couldn’t stand the awesome overload. Putting his key in the door, Chuck regretted it immediately. Right in the middle of his living room was The Awesome Man himself, groping his older sister.

“Oh gosh!” He yelled and slammed the door shut. He heard Ellie shriek as his mood just darkened even more. Chuck felt the black cloud over his head begin to pour down as he opened his bedroom window and climbed over the sill.

He toed his sneakers off and unbuttoned his jeans. Rolling his shoulders to release the building tension, Chuck should’ve suspected Ellie to come in the moment he bent to pick up his clothes.

“Chuck?” She knocked and popped her head in. “I’m sorry, I thought you were gonna be home later tonight. You said Jill was taking you out for ice cream after the game.”

Chuck gave her an ugly look. He threw his pants back down as he stared at her; him next to his bed in his boxers, and her with tangled hair at the door. “Me and Jill aren’t together anymore. I’d rather not talk about it. Can you leave now?”

He watched as his words hit her, her face reeling. Her eyebrows climbed up as her hazel eyes hardened on him. “I’m sorry you had a bad day, but you don’t need to take it out on me, Chuck. When you feel civil and want to talk, I’ll be in my room!” She slammed the door shut as he groaned loudly at her. “With Devon!” She shouted back at his petulant noise. He groaned louder.

Chuck flopped down onto his bed and buried his miserable, oily face in a clean pillow. “Why won’t anyone love me?” He mumbled into it. He heard Ellie’s door click shut down the hall. His face screwed up as he rolled over and grabbed his headphones.

* * *

  **The hell do u mean ‘over’** Johnny typed quickly. His heart beat nearly as fast as it had during the second half of the game earlier that night. He waited for Ty to text back.

 ** _Sorry bb,_** came up on his phone screen. **_Dad is moving and i got to go with him! Still luv u! Just don’t want the long distance thing. :/_**

Johnny felt his chest constrict as he sucked in a breath. How the hell could he do this? Johnny gave everything to that boy! He treated Ty like a best friend, he was his best friend- and John Casey does not make friends very easily, let alone keep them.

Johnny ran a hand through his floppy hair. He read the messages over again in the back of his Mom’s SUV. “Ma, can you turn the air on? I’m kinda hot back here.”

Her eyes flicked to the rearview mirror to look at him. “Can’t! You know Coach said cold air with all this sweat will make you sick.”

Johnny grunted in reply, not feeling like talking. Should he tell her? No. His mom didn’t even know he had a boyfriend, she was still processing the whole “gay” thing. She was fine with it, so was his dad. Still loved him, would go through the process, blah, blah, blah. His main problem was his mom recommending boys he should date. Trying to figure what his “type” of guy is.

Tell her, he thought. At least tell her Ty is leaving. That Ty is breaking the heart you weren’t prepared to have. Shit. Feelings. Shit, shit, shit. Feelings.

Johnny slammed his hand down on the foam-rubber car armrest of his seat, clenching it as he tried to catch his breath.

His mom looked up at the mirror to look at him. “Johnny? What’s wrong?” When he didn’t answer she started to signal that she was pulling over. He waved his hand to tell her to stop. “Can you breathe?” She asked.

He tried to grunt in affirmation, but it came out as more of a squeak. She pulled over. Johnny concentrated on breathing as his mom came around the side and opened the car door. She reached in to hug him, but he shook his head. “Don’t want to be touched?” She asked, voice level. He grunted. “Okay.” Mrs. Casey shut the door and walked around to open the other one, climbing into the car and buckling in next to her son, keeping her hands in her lap as he let his panic pass.


	6. Last Minute Beauty Tips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a filler chapter after a year of nothing. Sorry, but I hope you like it anyway. Last revised 19 January 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating in, I dunno, a year? I wrote this in about 10 minutes and intend to add on to this story within the following weeks. I lost my mojo, but felt I owed y'all a chapter. Thank you very much for reading, and especially leaving kudos!!

Sarah bounced her knee to make herself calmer as she sat in the hospital waiting room. His X-ray's should have been done by now. She let out a controlled breath when she saw Mr. Shaw walk toward her with a nervous grin.

"Hey sweetheart, he's just fine." His hands stopped shaking so much when she stood and hugged him. "His, uh, tests and scans and, uhm..."

"Mr. Shaw?" Sarah put a hand on his shoulder. "Would you like to walk me outside so I can wait for my dad? The fresh air would really help to calm me down right now." And you.

"Uh, yeah. Uh-huh."

Sarah took Daniel's father by the wrist and slowly walked him through the automatic doors to wait on a metal bench outside the visitor's entrance. The two sat in silence, both of thier legs jumping up and down.

A whisper broke the almost companionable silence. "He has a hairline fracture on one rib and a very, very small bruise in his, his, uh..." A waving towards the chest cavity replaced the words he wanted to say.  
Sarah offered, "lung?" Mr. Shaw nodded.

"That's really good! It could have been so much worse. The doctors most likely won't keep him long." As her boyfriend's father nodded numbly and patted her hand, Sarah felt all her worry about Daniel's physical health leave her shoulder muscles. However, the worry she felt about how her next choices would affect his emotional health, was beginning to rise and constrict in her chest.

* * *

**Hey!**

Chuck's phone screen lit up rather early Saturday morning with a text from Bryce.

**Did Jill talk w/ you?**

Chuck sighed and considered answering. Did Jill tell Bryce that she would break up with him? How did Bryce know they talked? He shook his head. He was being moronic. Bryce probably asked Jill to pass along a message and she forgot to do so with everything that happened last night.

 **Sorta.** was his reply.

**What did she say?**

Chuck felt his heart- what was left- leap into his throat and then jump down into his stomach. **I don't feel like talking rn Bryce. Maybe later?**

**I'll come by later. Have that Blu-ray I need to give back.**

Chuck groaned, but didn't respond. He sat his phone down on the kitchen counter and robotically went through his breakfast routine.

* * *

Roan rubbed the back of his wrist against his nose while he leaned as close to the mirror as possible.

You can't simply brush the hair into place.

After gelling his hair throughly, slicking it back with his fingers, he used a fine-toothed comb to leave the little rows and divots in his hair that he could ruin when he dragged his fingers through. When the finger dragging was done, it left the hair messy, but when done right, wild and dashing. The proper amount of gel is applied before hand so that the hair can be put back in place when a flat palm is dragged from the forehead to the back, slicking it back down once again.

When going somewhere where image is everything, especially last minute, popping and scratching pimples is a no-no. Even when successfully getting rid of the pimple, it can leave the area of the face red and blotchy. Use shower soap or an ointment for scrapes to dry the pore out. Hopefully, this will make the pimple dry and flaky, causing you to carefully and easily remove the acne without people drawing attention the giant red sore you left on your face trying to remove your adolescence.

A pounding on the bathroom door caused Roan's inner monologue to shut down.

"Other people have early morning BMs, y'know!"

He grit his teeth and exhaled through his nose to quell his anger. "I'll be out in a sec, Bobby!" As far as step-dads go, Bob could've been worse. He could have snooped or pried into his private life. He could've showed up at every practice as well as game like some of the cougar-moms that Roan had seen driving his teammates home.

The suave young man cleaned his things off the marble counter quickly and opened the door with a flourish of his hand. The banging of the crystal-styled doorknob against the wall ruined his theatrics.

With a tight lipped grin, he walked past Bobby and grabbed his keys off the counter.

"I'm off to a meeting, Bobby!" He called through the bathroom door. When asked with who and why, Roan grinned to himself. "I'm off to brunch! Like any working man, I need some buisness with my pleasure."


	7. After Shocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck and Bryce talk after the breakup with Jill. A little insight to what goes through Johnny's mind after something he can't process correctly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The descriptions get a little cheesy somewhere in the middle. The middle of the fic is a little in-depth to a panic attack. Or at least what I call them. I haven't had the guts to look up the defining difference between my anxiety/panic attacks. I honestly don't wanna know tbh. That may be too much information about me.  
>  Angst. Angst when writing, may be angst when reading. Thank you very much for reading my stories.

The hinges on the door rattled as Bryce pounded on the wood four more times. He really needs to talk to Chuck if Jill won't. He has to get this whole cheating thing off his chest. And maybe some other secrets as well. 

As he waited for the door to open, he tucked a strand of hair back behind his ear. Bryce must have been nervous if he was mussing his hair up so much that he could see it. 

"Go away!" Came an angered shout on the other side of the door.

"Chuck, it's Bryce!"

"I know," Chuck shouted. "And I don't want to talk to you right now."

Bryce sighed and refrained from shoving his hands into his pockets. He banged his shoulder against the door, making it rattle, and leaned against the frame. "Chuck," he breathed out, "I'm sorry about Jill. I honestly am! But that's why I wanted to come over, so I could expl-".

The door swung open, Bryce stumbling forward and Chuck stepping out of the way. Bryce's arms swung around next to his body as he tripped over his feet. He righted himself and looked at Chuck's downtrodden face. The two friends stared at each other until Chuck looked down and slammed the door shut.

Chuck shuffled into the kitchen, Bryce frozen in the living room. He slowly shook himself out of his blank state of mind and slicked his hair back, the ends curling slightly around the back of his ears. 

"What's up, Chuck?" He offered to the silence.

Chuck merely shrugged and tugged the refrigerator open, reaching in and taking out two bottles of grape soda. He set them on the counter and twisted the top off of his. 

Bryce wrapped his hand around the bottle and tapped his fingers on it. "I, uh," he reached into the back of his waistband and grabbed the movie. "Brought this back, finally." He set the Blu-Ray copy of X2 on the counter next to Chuck's hand. 

Chuck put the half empty bottle down and simply nodded towards Bryce. The two young men stood at the kitchen counter together in silence, the only noise was the fabric of thier clothes when one of them would shift thier weight. 

"How did you know Jill broke up with me last night?" 

"Hmm?" Bryce felt the stiffness of his gelled hair shift when his head snapped up. 

"I mean," Chuck downed the rest of his soda and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Jill broke up with me last night and now here you are, saying "you're sorry about Jill." What's that about?" 

As Chuck turned around to throw his drink bottle away, wiping the stickyness of his hands on his pants, Bryce turned his unopened drink in his hands. 

"I told her to." 

Bryce cleared his throat as he saw Chuck freeze. 

"Repeat that for me?" 

"I told Jill to break up with you." Bryce cracked his knuckles out of habit. "I told her that if she didn't do it, I would come to you first." 

Chuck breathed deep through his nose and crossed/uncrossed his arms. "Affair?"

Clearing his throat again, Bryce leaned against the counter, his arms becoming restless. "The word affair seems to go more with marriage." He tried for a smile.  
Chuck hadn't looked at him. "So she dumped me to go after you?" He grabbed Bryce's unopened soda and twisted the cap off, taking a large mouthful. "Can't say I didn't expect this to happen, Judas." 

"Chuck! Look I-" he pushed himself off of the counter to get closer to his lengthy friend, only to have a hand placed on his chest- keeping him at arm's length.

That was when Chuck looked him in the eye. His eyes actually seemed to change. How does that happen? Do facial features change the emotion seen in a friend's eyes? Could this betrayal really morph warm chocolate eyes to those made of cold, cracked clay? 

"If this is an excuse, Bryce, it better be a fucking good one." 

His chest tightened. "We snuck around for about a month. I broke it off the other day."

"Why?"

The tightness got worse, squeezing. Telling him that if he let one word of his contemplation slip, his chest cavity would burst. Or cave in. Both. 

"Tell me Bryce!" Chuck shoved him with both hands, the bottle sloshing soda onto his furious hand. 

"I can't tell you!" Bryce shouted. His hands curled, and the muscles in his upper arms strained from the tension of holding his fists back.

"Why not?" Chuck raised his voice over that of Bryce's. 

"Because I can't convince myself!"  
A short silence, followed by a bitten out response of, "of what?" 

His skin felt like it was covered with ants. Say it, Bryce. Tell your best friend that you're broken. That something is wrong with you, and you can't figure out why. Why you, why this, why now? 

"I think I'm broken, Chuck." Bryce whispered. "I don't know what to fix."  
Chuck's hard glare didn't soften, but it did shift. His thumb rubbed smoothly over the condensation on the neck of the glass bottle. "What are you talking about?"

"I- I think I might be ace, Chuck."

* * *

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." _You don't need it, you're fine. You're fine. You're okay. You can do it, it'll pass._

All this ran through Johnny's head as he tried his best not to wrap his arms around himself and shrink to the ground. He didn't want to curl up, rock back and forth and breathe into a paper bag to get his breathing under control. He didn't need that punk ass bag. He could do it. He's fine. 

As he succumbed to the rising panic in him, Johnny gently knelt to the floor and hugged his shoulders. He could feel his nose getting numb from the hyperventilation. 

A knock on the door.

"Oh, God," he whispered as he sucked a breath in that didn't reach his lungs. 

"Honey? You alright?" It was his mother. Trying to relate, make everything okay. Where the hell was his bag? He could t respond. Can't look weak after last night after the game. Can't. Can'tcan'tcan'tcan't.

* * *

Chuck stared at Bryce as his shorter friend had a small meltdown. He pursed his lips. 

"What's that mean?" 

He saw Bryce clench his hands and run them down his jeans, restless. The gelled gentleman began to pace slowly. 

"Ace- asexual. Meaning the person has a lack of interest in sex. Everyone is different." Each word out of his mouth was rushed and breathless. "I-I-I... I kinda... researched? Researched it a few weeks ago when Jill," his blue eyes darted to Chuck. He noted that his friend's brows were raised, but was still willing to hear him rant. 

"Jill wanted to... kinda..." Bryce waved his hands over his torso vaguely. "I didn't like the feel. My skin crawled. Soon whenever we would..." Again Bryce looked towards Chuck to see if what he was about to say would anger him again, break the state of calm. "Whenever we'd make out or whatever, I just... couldn't. Felt kinda gross. When she tries to touch my butt or my thighs I get nauseous."

"Maybe it's just her? Maybe I'm not ace? Maybe I like sex as much as the next guy? I mean... it could just be nerves because I was with my best friend's girlfriend behind his back and..." Bryce felt like Chuck. He was babbling, pacing, talking with his hands. He wasn't just explaining to Chuck about the Jill situation anymore, he was speaking his mind as soon as the thoughts came to him. "And, and, I got upset, right? At the fact of hurting you like that, knowing you'd find out? I still jack off! Maybe not as much as the next guy, but it happens occasionally. I mean, that doesn't mean I'm broken right?"

Bryce's next breath was heaved in and out. He looked at Chuck, out of breath and frustrated. 

Chuck set the bottle down on the counter. He walked over to Bryce and leaned against the counter, hands in the pockets of his pyjamas. He twitched his nose. 

"I don't think you're broken, pal." 

"How would you know?" 

"Well." Chuck paused. No matter how shitty he felt, he knew Bryce was struggling with his own demons as well. "If they already have a term and definition, it means other people are going through the same thing. Living thier lives and enjoying them. And you know those people are enjoying life because they're the ones who set up the websites you researched on, happy to help questioning youths. Just because most of the world is sex-crazed doesn't mean everyone has to conform to that one thought, just like any other concept out there." 

Bryce just stood, mulling everything over.  
Chuck's mouth twitched just a little bit.

"Exhale, pal."

Bryce's following snort contained a little sob in it, but he breathed steadily and smirked a little at Chuck nonetheless.


	8. Ellie's Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While studying for her classes at med-school, Ellie gets a call from Social Services.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short and filled with grammatical and spelling errors. I'm sorry. Thank you for reading!!

"I-I don't entirely understand," Ellie said into the phone pressed between her cheek and shoulder. "Why are you coming for another check-in? I was under the impression that any paperwork was made and no problems were to be found." She kept her breathing under control.

"Yes, Miss. Bartowski, we understand." The man on the other end of the line seemed to be reading from a script. Could he not get to the point? "But with the trouble going on at your brother's school, we want to do a small separate interview with him about the events from last week."

"What events?" Her voice rose and she slapped her hand against her keyboard. "You mean the concussion? That was due to the teacher!"

"Miss. Bartowski, please." The man said trying to sound calm. "We would like to talk to Chuck about the fight he had with another student. We will be talking to both of them. There really is nothing to worry about, ma'am. It's really about the preliminaries our child service's office has with the school system."

"Alright. Please tell me what time these interviews will be set." Ellie huffed and rubbed a knuckle against the bridge of her nose. 

"Oh, you won't be needed there, Miss. Bartowski." 

"Excuse me? I am his guardian and caretaker and I demand to be with my brother when he is put under..." Word, word, come on brain. What was the word? "Scrutiny! Interrogated and forced to confess to any accusations you people give him because he is an awkward child trying to please everyone but himself!" 

Silence on the other end. 

"Miss. Bartowski, if you insist on being present during the interviews we conduct with Mr. Casey and your younger brother, it is only reasonable to give you the time, yes?"  
Ellie grit her teeth and refused to give the dimwit an answer. 

"The interview we have scheduled for Chuck at the moment is this Thursday around 11:15."

Oh no. _Her midterm._ Her midterm. Midtermmidtermmidtermmidtermmidtermmidtermmidterm. 

"Ma'am? Is that time alright? Your presence is optional and unneeded, Miss. Bartowski. It's just procedure, really."

Midterm. Chuck. 

"Needed or not, I'll be there."


End file.
